


do i wanna know (if this feeling flows both ways)

by nightswatch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 20:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3263246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I’m an ecdysiast.”</p><p>“Oh…” To be honest, Combeferre prided himself in having a pretty extensive vocabulary, but he was quite sure that he’d never come across that word anywhere. “What’s that?”</p><p>“I guess you’ll have to look it up,” Grantaire said and stood up, “because this is my stop.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	do i wanna know (if this feeling flows both ways)

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this fic was written for an anonymous prompt I got on my [writing blog](http://musains.tumblr.com/) and the rest is basically just a continuation.

Combeferre looked up from his book when the bus came to a halt. He knew where they were, he knew that it was Tuesday morning, and he knew who’d in all likelihood get on the bus in a couple of seconds.

Although it wasn’t like Combeferre was _waiting_ for him.

It was just that he’d noticed that this guy always got on the bus each and every Tuesday and Thursday morning when Combeferre was on his way to work. Combeferre had frequently thought about talking to him, because he usually sat down in the row right in front of Combeferre, but he’d never really known what to say to him.

Combeferre had thought about complimenting him on his tattoos, they really did look amazing, but it would certainly be creepy now, because it was winter and Combeferre had only seen them poking out from under his leather jacket during the last few months.

As Combeferre had expected, he stepped on the bus, yawing as he made his way to the back. Today he’d tucked a red beanie over his inky curls and Combeferre couldn’t help but note that his jeans were as tight as ever.

Their eyes met briefly, but as always they didn’t exchange a single word.

At least not until three weeks later.

It was pouring outside and the bus was a little more crowded than usual – people who usually walked or took their bikes were also taking the bus today. Which was why the row in front of Combeferre wasn’t empty anymore and when mystery guy got on the bus he slid into the empty seat next to Combeferre without hesitation.

Combeferre did his best not to stare at him and took to looking out the window, until the bus suddenly stopped, the lights of police cars and an ambulance flashing outside.

The guy next to him sighed. “Great.”

“Are you in a hurry?” Combeferre asked lowly.

“No, I was just really looking forward to going to bed.”

“Long night?” Combeferre asked, belatedly realizing that  that had probably been way to nosy.

The guy only shrugged, though. “You could say that,” he muttered. “That’s what I get for working at night.” He smiled. “I’m Grantaire, by the way.”

“Combeferre,” he said, smiling back at him.

“Are you on your way to work?” Grantaire asked, glancing out the window. The bus still wasn’t moving.

“I am, but I still have plenty of time.” Combeferre bit his lip. “I, um, I like to get to work early.”

Grantaire laughed. “I see. And what do you do? I was always wondering, you know, because you always read, I thought you might be a librarian or something.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I wasn’t _always_ wondering, obviously, I just… yeah.”

Combeferre was trying his hardest to somehow bite back a smile. “Well, I’m actually a teacher. I did think about becoming a librarian for a while, though. What do you do?”

Grantaire grinned. “I’m…” He trailed off when the bus started moving again. “Ah, here we go. Anyway, I’m an ecdysiast.”

“Oh…” To be honest, Combeferre prided himself in having a pretty extensive vocabulary, but he was quite sure that he’d never come across that word anywhere. “What’s that?”

“I guess you’ll have to look it up,” Grantaire said and stood up, “because this is my stop.” He winkeda at him and then squeezed his way past a bunch of people to the door, grinning at Combeferre before he got off the bus.

Combeferre would have loved to google what an ecdysiast was, but at school he was greeted by a couple of first graders who’d thought it was a great idea to play in a puddle before school started, so he had his hands full. When he was on his way home, though, Combeferre immediately pulled his phone out of his bag to check. What he found was, well, _surprising_.

And he actually found himself getting a little grumpy because he wouldn’t see Grantaire again until Thursday. Enjolras  frowned at him on Wednesday morning and Courfeyrac looked like he was about to ask him if there was something wrong, but Combeferre gave them both a quick smile and that was that.

* * *

Thursday morning found Combeferre in a much better mood. The weather was a lot better as well, so the bus was nearly empty when Grantaire got on. He still sat down next to Combeferre, though.

“So,” Combeferre greeted him, “you’re a stripper.”

“I am,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “Well, sort of an exotic dancer. But yeah, congrats, you obviously know how a dictionary works.”

“And is that…” Combeferre pursed his lips. He wasn’t quite sure what he was even trying to ask. “Well, is that why you’re on the bus so early in the morning?”

“Yeah, I work Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, although you obviously don’t see me on the bus on Saturday morning.” Grantaire shrugged. “Working all night isn’t that much fun, but it pays well.”

“I’m sure it does,” Combeferre said. He was wondering if it would be rude of him to ask where he could see Grantaire perform. Because he was certainly intrigued. “You must be a really good dancer,” was what he said instead.

“I’m alright.” He laughed. “I also teach classes if you’re interested.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t look so graceful,” Combeferre muttered, his face starting to feel hot.

Grantaire eyed him for a couple of seconds, which really didn’t help Combeferre’s already flustered state. “Well,” he said eventually and pulled a card out of his pocket, “take this, just in case you change your mind. I also do private lessons.”

Combeferre cleared his throat. “I… yes, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Grantaire said, grinning at him. “So, what do you teach at school?”

It took Combeferre a moment to gather his thoughts.

He hated to admit it, but he spent all Thursday and Friday long staring at the card that Grantaire had handed him on the bus. And when he wasn’t staring at it, he was thinking about calling Grantaire, about what he would say to him.

When Enjolras kept shooting him worried glances over breakfast on Saturday, Combeferre decided to finally pick up the phone.

Grantaire answered after a couple of rings, his voice rough and sleepy. “Hello?”

“Hello, this is Combeferre. I’m really sorry, I probably woke you up, didn’t I?”

“It’s quite alright,” Grantaire said, sounding a little more awake all of a sudden. “How can I help you?”

“I’m not calling about a lesson,” Combeferre said quickly. He’d felt like he needed to clarify that. “I was just wondering if you wanted to have coffee. Or tea. Or whichever other beverage you might prefer.”

Grantaire didn’t say anything for a moment and Combeferre had already started to silently panic when Grantaire said, “Sure, that sounds nice.”

* * *

“You’re going out on a date?” Courfeyrac asked, his eyes going wide. “And you didn’t tell me about it until _now_?”

Combeferre rolled his eyes and pulled a shirt out of his closet. “What do you think about this one?”

“ _Combeferre_.”

“What?” Combeferre asked, ducking out of the way when Courfeyrac threw a pillow at him.

“We live under the same roof, we share our food and our blankets and our _everything_ and I’m so hurt right now.” Courfeyrac stuck out his bottom lip and flopped down on Combeferre’s bed with a dramatic sigh.

“You were at Jehan’s all weekend,” Combeferre said. “And I _just_ told you.”

“You could have called me,” Courfeyrac grumbled. “But this is great news and you can totally make it up to me by telling me about the guy.”

“Yeah, tell him about the guy,” Enjolras called from across the hall.

Courfeyrac nodded, wriggling his eyebrows.

“His name is Grantaire,” Combeferre said, holding up a sweater that Courfeyrac quickly dismissed with a shake of his head. “I met him on the bus.”

“And that’s it?” Courfeyrac asked, apparently sensing that that was definitely not it.

“He’s…” Combeferre bit his lip. “Well, he’s a stripper.”

Courfeyrac’s jaw very visibly dropped. “He’s a what?”

“A stripper,” Combeferre repeated, even though Courfeyrac had quite obviously heard him the first time.

“You met a stripper on the bus,” Courfeyrac said. “And you’re going out on a date with him.” He laughed. “Combeferre, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Combeferer said dryly. He picked up another sweater. “This one?”

Courfeyrac sighed and hopped off Combeferre’s bed, gently taking the sweater from him. “Do you want there to be a second date?” he asked. “Because if you do, you might want to borrow some of my clothes.”

“I’m not borrowing clothes from you,” Combeferre said sternly. He’d met Grantaire on the bus, he surely didn’t have any expectations concerning his wardrobe.

“Fine, wear that one, then.” Courfeyrac gave him a nudge. “I mean, it’s very you. So that’s good.” He reached for a pair of jeans that Combeferre hardly ever wore because they were a little too tight for his taste. “And these.”

Combeferre took them from him hesitantly. Well, it couldn’t hurt.

Enjolras and Courfeyrac both wished him a good time before he left and reminded him to call if he wouldn’t come home, which was accompanied by a lot of eyebrow-waggling from Courfeyrac. Combeferre promised he would, just in case, even though he was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to go home with Grantaire. At least not tonight.

They’d agreed to meet at the Musain, which was apparently just around the corner from Grantaire’s apartment. Combeferre knew it well, so at least he didn’t have to worry about not finding Grantaire. When Combeferre got there, Grantaire was already waiting for him outside, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, lips curling into a smile when he saw Combeferre.

They found a seat in the back of the café, just smiling at each other for a minute or so.

“Well,” Grantaire said eventually and huffed out a laugh, “I’m glad you didn’t change your mind.”

“Why would I change my mind?”

“You’re smart, you know why,” Grantaire said, smirking as he reached for the menu.

Combeferre pursed his lips. “Your profession–”

Grantaire snorted. “I love that you call it a profession. Makes it sound a lot cooler than it is.”

“Anyway,” Combeferre said, smiling at him, “it doesn’t have anything to with whether or not I want to meet you for coffee.”

Grantaire put down the menu and pushed it across the table. “I’m glad to hear that, because some people actually think that they’ll get a free lap dance if they go out with me.” He laughed. “I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“I’ll live,” Combeferre mused. He took a quick look at the menu, then they ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of cake each.

Grantaire let him try his, Combeferre let him have the rest of his piece, chatting idly all the while. Combeferre noticed that Grantaire liked to talk, even though he quite obviously didn’t mean everything he said. He told Combeferre that he didn’t care much about politics, but did know a little too much about it for it to actually be true.

Combeferre just smiled about it and threw in a comment here and there, soon realizing that Grantaire obviously wasn’t opposed to a good discussion, even though he often argued in favor of the most ridiculous things just for the fun of it.

Sadly Grantaire had to leave for work much too soon. Or at least it seemed soon to Combeferre – actually they’d spent a little over three hours talking.

“Well, this was nice,” Grantaire said as they stepped outside. He grinned at Combeferre as he tucked a beanie over his curls. This time it was blue.

“It was,” Combeferre said. “Do you mind if I walk with your for a bit?”

“Sure, come along.” Grantaire started walking and Combeferre easily fell into step next to him. Grantaire kept him entertained by pointing at random buildings and telling him stories about them and sometimes Combeferre really wasn’t sure if he was making them up or not.

After about ten minutes Grantaire was starting to slow his steps. “You can watch if you want,” he said, “it’s not a private lesson. Like, people are always welcome to take a look if they’re curious.”

“I don’t think I…” Combeferre cleared his throat, very well aware that he was blushing furiously. “I mean, no, thank you.”

“Some other time?” Grantaire asked, smiling up at him sheepishly. “Maybe in private.”

“Maybe,” Combeferre echoed, even though it had actually meant to be a definite _yes_.

“Alright, then.” Grantaire winked at him. “I gotta dash, but I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“You certainly will,” Combeferre said.

“And hopefully not just on the bus.”

“No, not just on the bus.” Combeferre smiled. “I’ll call you.”

“You better,” Grantaire said and gave him a nudge before he walked into the gym where he was teaching his classes.

Combeferre waited until he was inside, grinning when Grantaire turned around to wave at him through the glass doors, then he started walking back home, the grin never quite going away.

* * *

“I’m not sure if it’s too early to ask this,” Grantaire said lowly, “but do you want to come back to my place? You know, for a drink, like coffee or something, or... whatever. I just thought it’d be nice to hang out for a little longer and I have tomorrow off and so do you, so… yeah. But just if you want and if you don’t have anything better–”

“That sounds nice,” Combeferre said to save Grantaire from any more rambling.

Grantaire took a deep breath. “Good, that’s… good.”

Combeferre laughed and put an arm around him, pulling him closer as they walked along, smiling when Grantaire’s arm wrapped around him as well.

He’d only been to Grantiare’s apartment once so far, but just to pick him up. Combeferre had walked him home a couple of times, though. The first time they’d been holding hands, the second time Grantaire had taken one step up the stairs leading up to the front door, now face to face with Combeferre. “You know, this is a whole new experience, being as tall as you are and all that,” he’d said, “I think we should take advantage of that.”

Combeferre had only nodded and stepped closer, going willingly when Grantaire had pulled him into a kiss. The next day they’d met on the bus and Grantaire had greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

Grantaire had been to Combeferre’s multiple times – Combeferre had invited him over for dinner after Enjolras and Courfeyrac had kept insisting that they wanted to meet him, he’d joined them for movie night twice and one time he’d come home with Combeferre after they’d had dinner at Combeferre’s favorite Indian restaurant just down the street, which was when Courfeyrac had caught them making out on the couch.

Combeferre really wouldn’t mind if this evening would end in a similar fashion.

The walk to Grantaire’s place wasn’t too long and Grantaire quickly darted into the kitchen to make tea for the both of them while Combeferre took a closer look at Grantaire’s bookshelves and got acquainted with Grantaire’s cat.

Grantaire soon returned with two mugs of tea and Combeferre joined him on his worn-out leather couch, humming happily when Grantaire leaned in for a kiss.

“We’re not gonna drink that tea, are we?” Grantaire mumbled against his lips, not waiting for an answer before he kissed Combeferre again, pulling him down onto the couch with him, their kisses slowly growing deeper.

Grantaire’s hands skimmed down Combeferre’s sides to his ass, squeezing lightly. Combeferre bit at Grantaire’s bottom lip in return, which earned him a breathy sigh. Grantaire’s fingers trailed along the hem of Combeferre’s shirt, watching him intently as if he was waiting for Combeferre to tell him to stop.

Combeferre had no intention of stopping and Grantaire obviously didn’t either, so Combeferre reached down to open the button of Grantaire’s jeans.

Grantaire’s breath hitched when Combeferre palmed him through his jeans. “Bedroom?” he asked.

Combeferre pulled him to his feet. “Excellent idea.”

* * *

“Can I ask you something?”

Combeferre looked up, quirking an eyebrow. Grantaire had been doodling idly for the last half hour  or so while Combeferre had been reading one of the books he’d borrowed from Grantaire. “Of course,” Combeferre mumbled and put his book on the coffee table.

“I was just thinking,” Grantaire mumbled, tapping his pencil on his knee, “because we’ve never talked about this, at least not properly, and I think we should, because so far it’s always ended up being a problem…” He trailed off, chewing on his bottom lip.

“What?” Combeferre asked and inched a little closer.

“Does my job bother you? I mean, you sort of said that it didn’t, but that was weeks ago and I just… I don’t know, I guess I want to make sure?”

Combeferre only stared at him for a moment. “I don’t think it’s my place to be bothered by it.”

“That was a good answer,” Grantaire said, lips twitching, “but still. I take my clothes off for money. While people are watching. And I dance for them. Some people don’t like that.” He paused, giving Combeferre an unreadable look. “People I dated in the past didn’t like that. They were jealous, and I get it, in a way, I just...”

“It’s your job and it’s just that,” Combeferre said. “And you like it, don’t you?”

“I do,” Grantaire said. “I’ve always liked dancing. There are competitions, you know? I’ve been thinking about doing one, just for fun.”

“You should.”

“You’ve never even seen me dance.”

“I’m sure you’re very good at it,” Combeferre said honestly. “And don’t worry, I know perfectly well that your job and your privately life are two completely different things.”

Grantaire let out a deep breath. “Okay.” He smiled and snuggled against Combeferre. “I’ll show you sometime.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Combeferre mumbled, shifting so the two of them were more comfortable before he planted a kiss on Grantaire’s temple.

* * *

“I believe I promised you something,” Grantaire said as he opened the door for Combeferre.

“Dinner?” Combeferre asked. Because Grantaire had told him that he wanted to take him out for dinner a couple of days ago, but Combeferre hadn’t expected it to be today. “Because I actually just had dinner with Enjolras, I thought I’d told you, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you did tell me,” Grantaire replied and pulled him inside, giving him a quick kiss before he took his jacket, smiling at the sweater that Combeferre was wearing. It was one of his favorites – old and worn and looking like it was a relic from the 70s. “I was actually talking about something else,” Grantaire went on as he pushed the door shut.

“You promised you’d watch all six parts of _Star Wars_ with me,” Combeferre said, his lips curling into a smile.

“Right, that really wasn’t a hard promise to make,” Grantaire muttered and took a step closer, his arms wrapping around Combeferre, fingers skimming along the hem of his sweater. “Do you want to guess again?”

Combeferre laughed. He had a vague idea of where this was going now. “I think I remember now.”

“So is that something I could interest you in?” Grantaire asked. He hooked his fingers through the belt loops of Combeferre’s jeans, pulling lightly. “Because if you’d rather watch a movie or something…”

Combeferre shook his head. “I wouldn’t want you to think that–”

Grantaire was quick to press a finger to his lips. “I offered, didn’t I?” He grinned and pulled Combeferre with him down the hall to his room.

The first thing that Combeferre noticed was that the arm chair in the corner of Grantaire’s room wasn’t buried under a pile of clothes for once. Said armchair was exactly where Grantaire led him, but they stopped a few feet away from it.

Grantaire stood on his tiptoes to give him a kiss before he made a quick job of ridding Combeferre of his jeans and his sweater. “It’s more fun for me that way,” Grantaire whispered and then pushed Combeferre down on the armchair. “Just sit back and relax.”

Winking at him, Grantaire stepped back again, now reaching for his ipod to put on a song that Combeferre didn’t know. And the song really didn’t seem that important anymore when Grantaire started moving, still smiling at Combeferre as he very slowly pulled off his shirt.

Combeferre was pretty sure that his mouth was hanging open a little. Quite frankly, he couldn’t care less. Grantaire certainly knew what he was doing, spinning around to give him a nice view of his ass in his much too tight jeans before he turned around again, stalking back over to Combeferre, leaning down to steal a kiss.

His fingers slowly wandered up Combeferre’s thighs, but before Combeferre could tilt his head up for another kiss, Grantaire moved away again.

“You know,” Grantaire said as he opened the button of his jeans, “I’ve never done this in here. It’s a bit awkward, isn’t it?”

Combeferre cleared his throat. “No, it’s…” He licked his lips when Grantaire swiftly pulled down his jeans and palmed himself through his boxer briefs. “Quite enjoyable,” Combeferre grit out.

Grantaire snorted and got out of his socks, somehow managing to still make it look smooth even though they were just _socks_. Combeferre swallowed hard, starting reach out, but quickly dropping his hand when he remembered that he was just supposed to watch. Grantaire seemed to have noticed, though, because he stepped over again and sank down onto Combeferre’s lap, fingers sneaking into his hair, pulling him closer for another kiss.

The song changed to something slower and Grantaire stayed right where he was, so Combeferre wrapped his arms around him, kissing down Grantaire’s neck, gently biting at his skin. He smiled when Grantaire let out a soft gasp and his hips bucked down, grinding against Combeferre.

“Do you…” Grantaire kissed the corner of his mouth. “Do you want to stay here?” he asked, nudging Combeferre with his nose. “We could take advantage of this chair not being buried underneath my dirty clothes, because that’s probably never gonna happen again.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying right here.”

“Good,” Grantaire said, nipping at Combeferre’s bottom lip before he slid off the chair and settled between his legs, mouthing at Combeferre’s cock through his boxers. He grinned up at Combeferre, then he scrambled to his feet. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I certainly won’t,” Combeferre said, watching Grantaire as he walked over to his bedside table, looking over his shoulder to wink at Combeferre, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his briefs and wiggled out of them, tossing them aside with a smirk on his face.

Grantaire returned to him with lube and a condom, dropping them on the dresser next to the armchair. He pulled at Combeferre’s boxers. “Let’s get these off,” he mumbled and helped Combeferre out of them.

Once they were gone, Combeferre pulled him onto his lap again, Grantaire’s knees on either side of his thighs. Combeferre wrapped his fingers around Grantaire’s cock, stroking him slowly.

Grantaire moaned, blindly scrabbling for the lube. “Combeferre,” he mumbled and gave him a messy kiss, “just… be quick about it.”

Combeferre did his best to oblige, but the angle was a little awkward and he couldn’t prepare Grantaire as well as he would have liked, but Grantaire was starting to squirm in his lap, obviously getting more and more impatient.

“Come on, I’m ready,” Grantaire said, fingers digging into Combeferre’s shoulder. He gasped when Combeferre pulled out his fingers.

Combeferre picked up the condom, quickly tearing open the package and rolling it on, and maybe he was a little too generous with the lube, so he could only hope that Grantaire wasn’t too fond of that chair. When Grantaire finally sank down on his cock, Combeferre let out a breathy moan.

Grantaire was tight around him, his breath was coming quickly. “Just a minute,” Grantaire muttered. He rested his forehead against Combeferre’s, staying still for a moment, fingers trailing down Combeferre’s chest.

Grantaire gave Combeferre a quick kiss, then he started moving, slowly at first, but soon picking up the pace. Combeferre did his best to meet his thrusts even though he didn’t have much space to move, so he mostly tried to keep Grantaire steady with one hand while he started jerking him off with the other. Grantaire was the first to come, his drawn-out moan muffled by Combeferre’s lips on his, Combeferre following close behind.

“Wow, okay,” Grantaire whispered, nuzzling at Combeferre’s skin.

Combeferre only sighed, tilting his head to the side when Grantaire started peppering his neck with kisses.

Grantaire eventually stilled, lips brushing against Combeferre’s skin when he spoke. “I can’t move ever again. We’ll just have to stay right here forever, there’s no other way.”

Combeferre snorted and gave him a nudge. “I’ll give you two minutes.”

“And then what?”

“Then we’re going to take a shower.”

Grantaire hummed. “Both of us together?”

“Sure,” Combeferre said, slowly trailing his fingers down Grantaire’s spine. “Hey, Grantaire…”

“Hm?”

“This was…” Combeferre bit his lip. “It was very nice.”

“Nice, huh?” Grantaire said, moving off him with a groan. “One day I’ll have to show you what I can do with a pole.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not saying that Grantaire was dancing to "Do I Wanna Know" by Arctic Monkeys but that's totally what he was doing.


End file.
